Before
by Olympian-Goddess
Summary: Before the war. Before the blood. Before everything, there was a girl.


**Check dis oooouuuuuuut!**

Gwen cursed under her breath. This was not the first time a gulley-trout had eluded her grip. She was standing in the middle of the Ramr River a couple miles north of Uru'baen.

She wondered what her parents would think if they saw her now. Knee-deep in a river trying to catch fish wither her bare hands, instead of staying at the institute learning her lessons like a good little girl.

Shaking her head to clear thoughts of the horrible place she called home, Gwen looked around carefully.

There was no one in sight. Gwen decided to sing. When she was little, a medicine woman had told her she could charm anyone with a single melody. She never liked to sing in front of anyone in case they discovered her gift and exploited it somehow. She had found she could control things with her voice.

_Come little creatures_

_Come play with me_

_It's time for adventure_

_That we must now seek_

_It's under the mountains _

_And over the seas_

_Through the whole world _

_With new mysteries_

Her powerful, strong, and beautiful voice carried across the water.

During her song, fish had appeared around her ankles, deer and small rodents had gathered on the bank listening to the strange, but alluring melody,

Slowly moving, she shifted into a crouch. Without warning, she dove into the cool waters, with outstretched hands.

The fish, startled, darted away; Gwen had risen dripping wet, empty handed.

The bushes rustled and footsteps approached, from what she could guess they were at least 10 or 11 meters away.

Shaking her head free of revenge-filled thoughts for the trout, she hurried away before the advancing person caught her and sent her to the citadel.

As she ran, Gwen thought of what would happen it she WAS caught. Visions of torture devices and instruments invaded her mind.

Yes, life in Uru'baen was that bad. You couldn't even so much as sneeze without the King issuing you a grant to do so. Everything was protocol.

She reached the meadow where her school clothes awaited. She changed out the trousers and tunic that she had stolen out of a tailor's shop in the early spring. When she had straightened the last bow on her much-hated dress, she looked at the sun. It was nearing its peak, almost time for the noon break.

She began her trek toward the rock in the distance that hung over her city.

She cringed mentally; nothing in that cursed place would ever be wanted by her.

Well, there was one thing. One thing in that god-forsaken place.

Murtaugh. Her best friend. From the moment they first met they were entranced with each other. Of course, he never had much time for her.

She never knew who his parents were. One day she tried to follow him after their lessons, but he saw her and told her off for doing so and sent her home.

She passed a stream and cupped her hands so she could drink. She saw her reflection and grimaced.

It wasn't that she was ugly, quite the contrary actually.

She was pretty, with her medium-length blonde hair, dark brown eyes, and sun-tanned skin. But, she couldn't shake the feeling that she saw someone else, while looking at herself.

When she arrived at the gate, she checked on the guard. He was arguing with a fruit seller about tax money from profits, or something.

She quietly crept through on the other side of the gate. Only to be grabbed roughly by the nape of her neck.

She cursed herself for her stupidity in thinking the other guard was asleep.

"Where do you think you're going?" His sour breath washed over her face.

He was a man who looked to be in his mid-forties. He had a huge gut that protruded from under his breast-plate. She could tell he was drunk and hadn't shaved in a while.

She struggled and stomped on his foot. He didn't even flinch, and she was facing the wrong direction to knee him in the groin. By then the commotion had brought over the other guard who had sent the fruit vendor away.

"What's a pretty little flower like you doing outside the city gates?" He stalked her like a cat.

Fortunately, she was ready for these questions.

"I was delivering a present to my grandmother," she said, confidently. Well, as confidently as you could speak when being held up by the neck.

The guards, unsettled by her lack of fear, looked at each other uncertain of what to do.

"Where does your grandmother live?"

"On the banks of the Ramr River." She replied.

"You know what Alder, I think the flower doesn't have a permit, or is even telling the truth." The first one said.

"Take her to the citadel."

Gwen yelled, bit, and fought, but her physical capabilities were inadequate.

She would be punished severely, for what? Going outside city limits? Just skipping school was worth time spent on the whipping post. 10 lashings every morning and night for 3 days.

She was dragged into the city. Black buildings crowded every block, and she was nearly stepped on by an old cart horse.

The citadel loomed over her, a black shadow.

She fought even harder, but it was no use. She was brought in and shoved down a long dark hallway. At the end were giant black doors. 2 guards were posted at them.

"This one has been brought for her insolence; we need a punishment from the King." One of her captors said.

The guards nodded. They began to open the doors; you could tell they weighed a lot by the way the guards huffed and puffed.

Finally, the doors creaked open enough for her small frame. They roughly pushed her in and she stumbled into a long throne room. The throne itself was massive with glittering curtains hanging behind from floor to ceiling, which was at least 30 feet above her head.

The guard peeked in and announced that she had been found outside the city without a permit.

Gwen walked down the aisle and a deep rich voice filled the hall.

"What is your name?"

"Gwendolyn Sarisdaughter." She replied, shakily.

The person occupying the throne jerked his head up.

Suddenly something hit Gwen's mind. She did not know how to defend herself against such an attack. Her mind quickly gave way under the King's dominate power.

She fell to her knees ¾ of the way across the room, waiting for the assault on her mind to cease.

When he had seen every aspect of her short, rebellious life. The King sat back, satisfied.

"I see you have been acquainted with Murtaugh." He said.

She stared at him. How did he know Murtaugh? She voiced her question.

"Of course I know him. He's like a nephew to me." Galbatorix smiled. "In fact, he's the son of Morzan."

Gwen gasped. A million thoughts raced though her head. Why hadn't he told her this? Why was it that the _King_ of all people told her the truth.

A side door opened in the hall and a boy stepped out. He was facing the dais so she could not see his face.

"You sent for me, my lord?" a baritone voice echoed back to her.

"Yes, we have found a person of interest for you." Galbatorix looked past the boy's shoulder to Gwen. The boy, then, turned around.

Gwen went white, it was Murtaugh. She berated herself for not seeing this coming.

Murtaugh, with his black hair, bright green eyes, and self confidence, stared at Gwen blankly. Would he recognize her? It had been several years since he had left the Institute.

He turned back to Galbatorix.

"I see, your Majesty."

Galbatorix looked at the boy. "Very impressive." He said, congratulating Murtaugh on his show of indifference. "But, we have much more important duties right now than pleasantries, grab the girl and come."

Murtaugh came over to where I was still kneeling on the carpet. He grabbed my wrist, and a little tingle ran under my skin.

"Murtaugh, what's going on? Where are you taking me?" Murtaugh didn't look at her. They followed Galbatorix as he swept out of the throne room. "Where have you been?" she might as well have been talking to a stick.

She was taken through a maze of hallways. Her mind couldn't remember how many corners they had taken since leaving the throne room.

Finally, they arrived at a small circular room. Sitting in the center were 3 oval-shaped stones: one blue, one green, and one red.

Galbatorix faced them.

"You'll be witnessing Murtaugh's chance at becoming a Rider. Who knows, maybe you might have a little fun with fate."

Gwen was confused. She knew little about the Riders. She knew they rode dragons, but that was about it. What did these stones have to do with anything?

Galbatorix grabbed the blue stone and held it out to Murtaugh.

Murtaugh let go of Gwen and held the stone. Galbatorix stared intently at him. He glanced at Gwen. Then glanced again. He took her by the shoulders and she let out an involuntary squeak.

"Why didn't I see it before?" Galbatorix said seemingly to himself.

"Wh-what?" Gwen asked hesitantly.

Galbatorix gazed intently into her eyes. She was as scared as a rabbit caught in a trap, staring back.

He muttered a few words that she had failed to hear and chains with shackles appeared bolted to the rock wall. He towed her to the wall and started putting the restraints on her.

"Stop! No! What are you going to do? Murtaugh!" with her last cry a flash of pain flitted across Murtaugh's face. But it quickly disappeared.

Galbatorix finished chaining her and started chanting in the ancient language.

Before she could shout again, searing pain rushed down her spine. She screamed in agony. It felt like every inch of her body was on fire.

The pain lasted only 2 or 3 minutes, but it seemed as though hours had gone by. The whole time she screamed an agonizing howl, as she pulled uselessly against the restraints.

When the pain had slowly diminished, and the screams had turned into moans, that Gwen fell limp on the floor.

Her voice was hoarse, and her body, exhausted.

She vaguely heard Galbatorix speak and her bonds vanished. She dropped to the floor and lost consciousness.

**Review please! **


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